


Sequel

by romanticalgirl



Category: British Actor RPF, Hornblower RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie's got a list. Ioan doesn't have a chance in hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sequel

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://widget285.livejournal.com/profile)[**widget285**](http://widget285.livejournal.com/), who probably doesn't even remember she mentioned it to me, for [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) because she needs it and for beta duty and summary-coming-up-withness, and for [](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/)**nolivingman** for being brave enough to wait (and for titling the fic, unread). They are my girls, and I love them so.
> 
> Originally posted 8-6-06

He parks in the driveway and sighs. No rental car, no bags by the door. He doesn’t know why it bothers him. He shouldn’t, after all, be expecting anything. But that doesn’t stop his heart from beating faster as he walks toward the house, the figure slumped against the door frame looking small despite the fact that Jamie knows that isn't true.

_In any sense of the word._

He climbs the stairs and gazes down at Ioan for a few minutes before reaching over him and unlocking the door. He steps over the long legs, careful not to disturb him. He comes back a few minutes later with two beers. His trainer will kill him if he finds out, but it’s August and it’s been August for a three weeks, and Jamie’s been waiting for this longer than that, longer than he cares to admit.

He sits on the steps a few feet in front of Ioan and cracks one of the beers, enjoying the cool glass and the sharp hiss and the bite of the cap against his palm. He sets it down beside him and cracks the other, lifting it to his lips and fighting the urge to smile as he feels Ioan stir behind him.

“Waiting long?”

“Mmm.” He sounds sleepy and warm and it sends a slow heat burning down Jamie’s spine. “’Time’s it?”

Jamie takes a drink and steels himself not to turn around. “Almost six.”

“Mmm.” The sound is almost indecent as Ioan stretches and stands, adding a few other moans and groans to the mix. Jamie closes his eyes for a moment and takes the sound in, holding it in his chest with his breath before exhaling, feeling the hard ball of want settle at the base of his cock. “Two hours?”

“Nice nap?” He keeps the smile in his voice as he finally turns his head, giving himself a nice view of Ioan’s jeans and the way they conform to his slim body. He inhales again, _god **damn** it’s been a long time_ , and slowly lifts his eyes.

Ioan’s grinning and his face is relaxed and soft-looking, that strange warmth and mellowness that sleep gives a person making him look accessible in a way the sharp lines and aristocratic bearing don’t always. Neither of those are Ioan in particular, but Jamie’s noticed something different in him lately in his photos. Something Hollywood. It worries Jamie, because he doesn’t know how to deal with or touch that part of Ioan, but he’s hoping that here, away from the hustle and bustle of LA, Ioan will be…Ioan.

He comes over and settles on the steps next to Jamie, reaching over for his beer, letting his fingertips brush along Jamie’s thigh. Jamie closes his eyes, almost contracting around the sharp, sudden breath and then cuts a glance to Ioan. Ioan’s grinning, still drowsy, but well aware of the effect he has in general, and on Jamie most specifically.

“Nice enough.” He takes a sip of the beer and closes his eyes, smiling at the cold. He shivers a bit, the cold probably biting through the aftereffects of his nap, and then looks at Jamie again, sly smile and warm eyes. “Terribly naughty dreams.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes. I blush.” He grins. “Even now.”

He lies. “You’re not blushing.”

“No?” He leans in and Jamie can smell the hint of the beer, can feel the heat of his breath. “All the blood must be busy elsewhere.”

Jamie closes his eyes and shivers. Ioan’s voice is like silk sheets and champagne and slides against Jamie’s skin like sex. Jamie’s own voice drops to a rough urge and he turns his head. He’s close enough to kiss Ioan, but he won’t. Instead, he lingers just out of reach. “You’ve not seen the new house yet, have you?”

Ioan doesn’t move as he licks his lips, his tongue almost brushing Jamie’s mouth. “No. Do I get the grand tour?”

“Sure.” Jamie stands, and takes a long drink of his beer, draining it and tossing the bottle into the recycling bin along the side of the porch. “Eventually.”

**

Ioan sets his beer on the table inside the door and then leads the way up the stairs. He glances back once, as if he’s not sure Jamie’s following, which is really almost the most ridiculous thing Jamie’s ever imagined, and then once more with a smile that promises it’ll be worth it completely, which is pretty much a given, as far as Jamie’s concerned.

They reach the top of the stairs and Ioan stops, surveying the three doors he can see. He doesn’t pause for long, heading toward the end of the hall and opening the door on the left. “Oh.”

In the flat, Jamie had a simple box spring and mattress on a frame, good quality, but not much to look at, since he spent so little time there. This is different. “You like it?” It’s really nothing much, just actual _furniture_ , but Ioan’s never seen it and Jamie _may_ have had Ioan on his mind when he’d gone shopping. Which probably should tell him something, but he doesn’t want to listen. “You like it?”

“Not what I expected.”

“Well, it’s no crap mattress on the floor surrounded by take away boxes,” Jamie grins and leans against the doorframe as Ioan moves deeper into the bedroom. It’s huge – the previous owners had remodeled the original design and combined the master bedroom with another one and so it’s more like a suite – and Ioan’s looking around like he doesn’t know where to start. “But then, I’ve got a bit of a different decorating style than you do.”

“We can’t all be as posh as I am.” He takes another few steps into the room and then turns around and smiles at Jamie, slow and lazy and full of promise. “You know what I’ve realized?”

Jamie can’t help but smile in return. “What’s that?”

“We’ve been in this house for almost five minutes, and I’ve yet to get a proper hello.”

“Why do you think we’re in the bedroom straight away?” Jamie raises an eyebrow and pushes off the doorframe and moves closer to Ioan. Their bodies fit together as Jamie rests one hand on the back of Ioan’s neck and the other in the small of Ioan’s back. It’s magnetic. _True north_ , Jamie thinks as his mouth finds Ioan’s and everything else fades away in the warmth of their embrace and the soft press of their kiss.

It’s just a few steps to the bed, and Jamie guides them toward it, tumbling Ioan over the end and onto the mattress. He groans softly as his hands rub over the bedspread. “Christ, Bamber. You making up for lost time in the bedding department?”

He kneels between Ioan’s legs and lowers himself down, just a breath away from another kiss. “Maybe I know what you like.”

“You think so, do you?” Ioan lifts his hand and traces the line of Jamie’s jaw. His chest is rising and falling erratically, and there’s a heat in his eyes that makes Jamie’s arms tremble. “Show me.”

Jamie sits back on his heels, kneeling between Ioan’s legs and tugs Ioan up into a sitting position, reaching for his t-shirt. It comes off easily and Jamie tosses it aside, not caring where it lands when he’s got Ioan to look at. He pushes Ioan back onto the bed and stares at him. Swallowing hard, he lets his fingers trail down the tanned flesh, skirting over nipples and along muscle and flesh, feeling Ioan’s body react beneath his touch.

_Perfect._

He has the same thought every time, but it’s true every time. He lets his fingers rest on Ioan’s stomach, just above the waistband of his jeans for a moment, rubbing his thumb over the copper button. He’s afraid to speak, afraid to say anything and ruin the moment, or expose himself further, so he simply unfastens Ioan’s jeans and slides off the bed, tugging them with him. He drops Ioan’s trainers and socks and jeans to the floor and surveys what he’s got left. Ioan’s propped up on his elbows, his smirk a nice counterpoint to the swell of his erection beneath his grey boxer-briefs.

 _Cocky bastard_.

Jamie can almost hear the words, though he’s unsure if he or Ioan would say them. He smiles in return, and knows Ioan knows as well. Shaking his head, Jamie tugs his own t-shirt off and, for a moment, he knows that Ioan’s not smiling anymore.

“God…”

“That’s what the script calls for.” He doesn’t glance at Ioan, unwilling to lose the upper hand. He strips off the rest of his clothes, save his own boxer-briefs and then finally meets Ioan’s eyes.

“Jamie.”

The low thrum of desire in just the one word is enough to send Jamie’s already rapid heartbeat into overdrive. He licks his lips and exhales a shaky breath. “It’s been a long time.”

Ioan’s fingers are running over his boxer-briefs, tracing the line of his cock. They’re long and slender, elegant even in the act of wanking, and Jamie swallows hard. He leans in and catches Ioan’s hand, kissing the tips of each finger before slowly drawing one into his mouth. Ioan groans thickly and his hips come off the bed, but it _has_ been a long time, and Jamie’s going to make this last.

Ioan’s breath is the only sound in the room as Jamie sucks the finger slowly, surrounding it with heat and the promise of more to come. He can feel Ioan shiver as he massages the digit with his tongue, capturing it against the roof of his mouth. “Fuck…Jamie…”

Ioan’s hand falls to his stomach as Jamie releases it. He trails his fingers over the back of Ioan’s hand then slides them down to the waistband of the boxer-briefs. There’s a dark stain marking the tip of Ioan’s cock, and the hard outline of it against the thin fabric. Jamie eases it back and strips it down, sliding off the bed once more to dispose of it on the floor.

Sprawled on the bed, completely naked and aroused, Ioan looks like some sort of sacrifice. It takes willpower Jamie isn’t absolutely sure he has to back away and strip himself down. “M-Move…” He stops, his voice dying out, rasping against his dry throat. He tries to swallow, tries again. “Move up on the bed.”

Ioan does, making what should be awkward look graceful and erotic, and Jamie follows after him, keeping Ioan’s legs spread, his knees between them. “Jamie…”

He shakes his head. “Been a long time.” He sticks to whispering as it’s safer, though his voice sounds like someone else’s – husky and warm like thick honey.

“Yes.” He reaches for Jamie, trying to close the distance between them. “Jamie. Please.”

He doesn’t let the low, pleading note in Ioan’s voice distract him. _It’s been a **long** three weeks_. “So I rather came up with a list.”

“A…” Ioan’s practically panting, his breath all over the place. “A list?”

“Yes. A List of Things I’m Going to Do to Ioan Gruffudd Next Time I See Him.” It takes an effort to get the words out, to not surrender to the parted lips, though it’s worth it when Ioan forms them into a huff of laughter. “By Jamie Bamber.”

“Oh.” Ioan laughs again, the sound really more an exhalation of breath. “Do I get to hear this list?” He runs a hand along Jamie’s collarbone, the finger still damp from Jamie’s earlier attentions. “Or do I actually get a…” he licks his lips, and his eyes are like so much melted chocolate, warm and inviting and sinful, “demonstration?”

“It’s quite a list.” He reaches up and catches Ioan’s hand about the wrist and guides it down toward the bed, pinning it against the comforter beside Ioan’s head. His other hand does the same with Ioan’s other wrist and he leans in. “You think you’re up to it?” Ioan thrusts upward, reminding Jamie sharply of how _up_ for it he is. Jamie laughs. “Fair enough.”

He leans in closer, studying the lines of Ioan’s face for a moment, memorizing him, as if the picture he carries in his head isn’t clear enough.

“Number one.” He nuzzles Ioan’s nose with his, his lips parted and gusting breath against Ioan’s. He hears the soft murmur of pleasure under Ioan’s breath and can’t help his own pleasured sigh in response. “Is this.”

The kiss is warm and hot and soft and hard and slow and steady and fast and demanding and giving and taking by turns, both of them switching off control of it again and again until they break apart, both of them breathless and shaking. He can feel the pulse of Ioan’s blood beneath the palms of his hands, can’t hear anything over the pulse of his own.

He leans in again, his tongue sliding over Ioan’s, tangling with it. The first time they did anything, they spent the night on the couch kissing, barely touching otherwise, like a couple of scared teenagers who didn’t know what exactly led to sex. Jamie remembers the awkward push and pull of power, the trembling and the laughter and the earnest need to taste, to claim. He groans and runs the tip of his tongue along the roof of Ioan’s mouth and feels the resulting reaction, just as heady and arousing as it had been the first time.

“Wanker,” Ioan breathes, half the sounds missing as he gasps for air. His hips thrust again and he wraps his calf over the back of Jamie’s leg for leverage, angling his body higher, seeking contact. There’s a thready hint of need in his tone as he closes his eyes, his lips parted on a low whimper. “Please?”

“Number two,” Jamie leans into him again, turning his head at the last minute to find the soft, sensitive skin just below Ioan’s earlobe. “Is this.”

Ioan groans as Jamie’s teeth graze his skin. Each soft nip is followed by the sweep of Jamie’s tongue, soothing the flash of pain with a balm of pleasure. He captures the earlobe and nibbles on it, his breath gusting against Ioan’s ear and sending shockwaves through him. Ioan’s hands have clenched into fists above Jamie’s grip and his chest is brushing Jamie’s with every rapid rise. Jamie gives a lazy lick along the shell of Ioan’s ear and then gives a low chuckle.

”Number three.”

The skin of Ioan’s neck is warm and salty with the hint of perspiration and the residual scent of make-up, sweet and powdery. He licks and sucks at the length of it, biting a dark red spot just along his collarbone.

“Jamie…fi…filming.”

“Mmm,” he sucks the spot again and then bites it, pleased with the red stain on the tanned flesh. “Uniform should cover it.”

Ioan groans and thrusts up again. “J-Jamie…please. Fuck. Please?”

Jamie ignores him and licks the hollow of Ioan’s throat then slides his tongue up Ioan’s throat to his chin and kisses the curve of it before moving over to Ioan’s other ear. “Number four.”

“God…fuck…Jamie.” Ioan struggles against Jamie’s grip and wraps his other leg around Jamie’s, thrusting up against him. Their cocks brush lightly and Ioan groans, the touch and the sound causing Jamie to shudder, breaking his voice as he moves down to Ioan’s throat again.

“F…five.”

Ioan’s body seems like one active shudder as Jamie moves down his neck. He thinks about leaving another mark, but doesn’t, instead circling Ioan’s nipple with the tip of his tongue and reveling in the hard intake of breath that comes from just over his head.

“Six.”

He licks and sucks at the nipple, forcing it to hardness, a smooth ball against his tongue. He bites softly and Ioan groans and thrusts again, painting Jamie’s stomach with the sticky warmth of pre-come. Jamie groans around the skin, teeth holding the nub as his tongue teases it. Ioan rocks his hips from side to side and then upward, seeking contact of any sort as his breath falters and he whispers softly in Welsh, adoration or curses, Jamie’s not sure.

He makes his way to the other nipple, repeating the same lazy torture. Ioan’s alternating his name with a word in Welsh that Jamie’s almost positive is a curse, so he spends a little extra time there, shifting his hips just enough that his cock brushes against the tender skin beneath Ioan’s cock.

“Oh…holy…Jesus…Bamber…Jamie…please.” There’s a low keen of desperation in Ioan’s tone and Jamie smiles against his skin, unleashing a fit of creative cursing from Ioan as he feels it.

“Well, if you feel that way,” Jamie pulls back slightly, shifting his grip on Ioan’s hands and bringing them down beside Ioan’s body, keeping them pinned to the bed, only now Ioan’s got a tight grip of the comforter in each fist to keep his nails from sinking into his palm. “Maybe I’ll stop at six.”

“No. No. Sorry.” Ioan’s panting and thrusting, his hips rocking up against Jamie, needing contact, needing friction. “Please. Sorry. Please. S-seven. I want…I want seven.”

Jamie nuzzles Ioan’s stomach, his breath and tongue teasing over the dark arrow of hair that leads down to his cock. He lets his breath fan over the hot, blood-flushed skin but moves past it, fighting the smile that comes from Ioan’s anguished moan, and bites the soft flesh of Ioan’s inner thigh.

“Oh…fuck, Jamie.” Ioan’s past desperation, his voice tight with the hint of agony. “Please. I’m…God, begging. Jamie. Please.”

Jamie licks the skin he’s just tasted and raises his head. “Please what?”

“How…how…how many numbers?” His hips keep rocking up off the bed, and Jamie can see the tensing flesh as his breath feathers over the skin, sees the resultant need flare in Ioan’s eyes. “How ma…many?”

“Ten.”

“Ski…skip to…” Ioan closes his eyes and bites his lower lip. Jamie can see the struggle to think, to fight past the need and want. “Nine. Nine. Skip to nine. Please. Nine. Please.”

“You’re sure.”

He laughs, so hollow and desperate and _wanting_. “Nine. Yeah. Please. Nine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m…” He cuts himself off with a shuddering groan that seems to go through his whole body as Jamie runs his tongue along the underside of Ioan’s cock. “Oh… _fuck_.”

Jamie laughs deep and low in his chest, the sound rumbling along Ioan’s skin. Ioan whimpers and Jamie laughs again, this time letting the sound settle over Ioan’s cock as he takes the hard shaft into his mouth.

Ioan’s entire body tenses, muscles coiling and clenching and freezing as Jamie tastes him, feeling the slide of hot skin and wet flesh against his tongue. He tightens his grip on Ioan’s wrists, fighting for his own control as Ioan’s voice rolls over him in waves of pleasure. There’s desperation and base pleasure in the mumbled half words and hungry pleas and Jamie can’t help his own groan, his own need welling up in him.

He sucks hard at Ioan’s cock, tongue and lips and mouth sliding along the length of him. Ioan’s hands relax and then fist again, his hips rising off the bed to meet Jamie’s downward stroke. He going even stiffer, his body rigid as a board as he comes, the hot pulse of it against Jamie’s tongue. Jamie sucks and swallows, taking him in, the strangled sounds of pleasure sneaking past the constrictions of his throat as he takes him down.

Ioan relaxes all at once, like a slow wave that rolls down from the top of his head to his feet. His breath is still ragged and desperate and he flexes his hands, releasing the comforter and shifting, breaking Jamie’s hold. He strokes Jamie’s arms, tracing the bicep lightly before wrapping his hands around the muscle and tugging Jamie forward, no doubt tasting himself on the kiss.

He pulls back and looks up at Jamie with a smile, something Jamie’s seen in his own reflection once or twice in his eyes. Ioan reaches over to the night stand and opens the drawer, pulling out lube and condoms and a towel. He cocks his head, his smile an invitation to sin. “Ten?”

Jamie laughs and gets to his knees, reaching for the condoms. Ioan bats his hand away, shaking his head. “My turn, Bamber.” He sits up, not much space between them and opens the condom, letting it spill out into his hand. Tossing the packet aside, he reaches out with his other hand and runs it down the length of Jamie’s cock. “Perfect.”

His body jerks under Ioan’s hand, under the sweep of his thumb as he steals the hint of pre-come from the flesh. Lifting his thumb to his mouth, Ioan sucks it clean, smiling as Jamie groans again, eyes threatening to close until Ioan brings his hand back to Jamie’s cock, circling the base before he slides the condom down Jamie’s shaft.

Breath is something Jamie vaguely remembers as Ioan finishes unrolling the condom. He thinks it’s the thing locked tight in his chest, trapped there by the look in Ioan’s eyes Ioan takes his hand away and reaches for the lube, fumbling a bit as he refuses to look away. Jamie hisses at the contact of it, cool against his burning flesh, but Ioan’s hand gets it to the same temperature with a few strokes then he lies back, gaze still locked on Jamie’s.

“Ten?” He asks softly.

Jamie nods and angles his cock to Ioan’s flesh, pressing against it, just the tip against the muscle, still somewhat tight, despite the languid stretch of Ioan’s body. He licks his lips and pushes forward slowly and gently but firmly. “Ten.”

It seems to take forever to slide inside, to feel the constriction of Ioan’s body around him. If he measures seconds in heartbeats, it’s taken him about seven years, but in reality, he knows it must be much shorter. He stills, buried inside him, and closes his eyes. Ioan’s legs are bent, knees brushing Jamie’s side and he shudders as Ioan’s body tightens, reacts to him.

Planning only to steal a kiss, Jamie finds himself caught by Ioan’s tongue. He surrenders, his hips beginning to move. He groans or Ioan groans or maybe they both do and suddenly, he can’t kiss anymore because he needs to breathe and move and thrust. He braces himself, muscles in his arms standing out in high relief as his hips stroke forward, burying him deeper inside Ioan every time.

It’s been a long time, and it’s been a long day and it’s not long before Jamie’s burying his face in Ioan’s shoulder, tasting the mark he’d left earlier, and coming, his body shaking with release. Ioan’s hands are on his back, stroking, soothing like the softly whispered words that echo in Jamie’s ear. He hears them vaguely in the haze of pleasure, doesn’t process them as he lays slumped on Ioan’s body. He needs to move, he knows, as he weighs a good stone or two more than Ioan, but right now this is comfortable and right and _home_.

Something filters through and Jamie lifts his head, cocking it to the side as he looks down into Ioan’s eyes, and realizes what he sees. He’s known it all along, he thinks, or maybe he’s never know it until now. He nods and reaches up to trace Ioan’s lip with his finger. “I love you, too.”

Ioan’s smile is worth it, worth everything. A flush suffuses his skin and darkens his tan, and he kisses Jamie’s finger. “Glad to know it’s mutual. Now I don’t suppose you’d lift your entire muscle mass off of me so I can actually breathe?”

He rolls off of him with a laugh, carefully disposing of the condom before lying beside Ioan on the bed. “Better?”

Ioan nods and turns his head, still smiling. “Better.”

The comforter is soft and silky, the mattress pliable yet firm. And Ioan…Ioan is beside him. Jamie turns on his side and draws Ioan into his arms, entangling their limbs and settling into each other. “I lied.”

“Oh?” Ioan’s voice was drowsy, his breath warm on Jamie’s chest. “’Bout what?”

Jamie pulls him closer. “There were eleven.”  



End file.
